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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567613">The Black Jacket and the Special night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenophile_forever/pseuds/Selenophile_forever'>Selenophile_forever</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Because it is your bday, Can everyone die?, Except for Kachu, Happy Birthday Fic, How shitty can it be, I cant do tags at five in the morning, I should litereally quit writing chapter title names, I spent my night watching SMZS again, M/M, Please tell me how to sleep, What? Is this for senior KG children?, Why tf can I not sleep, gajar ka halwa id the best, no, this is serious, you should expect its reference in more of my fics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:15:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenophile_forever/pseuds/Selenophile_forever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Why does AO3 even expect me to write summaries?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Black Jacket and the Special night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kachustankarman/gifts">Kachustankarman</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Birthday, Bro❤🤓<br/>I wrote it, yes. But you still can kill me for this. I won't mind.<br/>I hope you received your T-shirt and I also hope you could decide the second gift you wanted to ask for. </p>
<p>I hope you like it💛</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Another day, another headline, another cup of hot tea touching Aman’s lips and sliding down through his throat. It was the fourth cup of tea since morning. He had dangerously cut down from minimum seven to eight cups of tea a day to maximum four. The headlines of the newspaper weren’t very informative at the least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>‘Centre approves setting up of Gorewada International Zoo in Nagpur district of Maharashtra.’</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>‘India's economic growth dropped to a seven-year low of 5% in the April-June quarter from 5.8% in the January-March quarter.’</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Okay.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another thirty seconds and Aman would surely put it down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>13 seconds to go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman’s focus was abruptly broken by the ring of his cell-phone. To how much ever extent may he love the phone, anything interrupting him in between whatever he liked, was a useless, worth of Aman’s hate, dork of a thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik. The phone flashed with the name of a caller.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>‘Was a useless, worth of Aman’s love, dork of a person.’</em> A slight change in Aman’s thoughts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He picked the phone up not wanting to hear Kartik crib for picking it up late.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi!” He said, cheerfully as ever. Yes, this was Kartik Singh Tripathi (?), the man who could be super active and as cheerful even at 9 pm. He was the same man who would cry over the death of a character in his favourite series and the same man who would scare off at the blood being shed on the T.V. Kartik was the same man who would laugh all day and the same man who could cheer Aman up during the days he would sulk. Kartik Singh was the same man whom he loved, yet the man he could absolutely hate at times.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Like now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Who the fuck is so jovial at 9 pm?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi,” he responded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you know where my black denim jacket is?” Kartik asked from the other end.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Denim Jacket. Black Denim Jacket. Wasn’t it the same Jacket Kartik would wear whenever he wanted to do something special for Aman? Yes, it was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time Aman saw Kartik wearing them was on their first actual, official date. The second time was on their second date, and then the third and fourth and fifth and sixth even. Yes, he wore it to six consecutive dates, until Aman desperately asked him to not wear it. But Aman knew, it was special for him. Another time he wore it was when Aman shifted to their home. It was <strong>‘THE BLACK DENIM JACKET’.</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>It probably was the only thing Kartik took care of, after Aman. The particular jacket had numerous memories attached, and all with both of them present. In fact, the last time he wore it was a month ago when they were in Allahabad with <em>their</em> family. He wore it because he planned a whole fucking terrace star gazing night for just the two of them. With Shankar Tripathi- his father, who had opposed their relationship the most?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With the Black Denim Jacket coming into the picture, Aman knew it would be special. It would be them. It would be for them. It would be with them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aman-“Kartik called out, pulling Aman out of his train of thoughts. Being the man that he was, it was often him daydreaming about 377 things of the world.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah! I know where it is. Of course, I know!” Aman told Kartik, thrilled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, cool. I’ll reach home in another ten minutes, you get ready quickly. When I call you, come down along with the jacket, okay?” Kartik sounded as if he was in a hurry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Exactly ten minutes later, when Kartik called, Aman voluntarily descended the stairs to meet the man. Without words being exchanged, they shared a warm hug, that lasted longer than the usual’s. Aman handed over the jacket to Kartik waiting for him to wear it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How do I look, Aman?” Kartik asked once he wore the jacket, in the sweetest voice possible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As hot as ever,” Aman replied in an equally sweet voice, if not more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sat at the back seat of the bike, hugging him from behind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Vo kya hain na, Devika called. She is throwing an impromptu party tonight. She invited us too. Now I’ll look hot also.” Kartik informed Aman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Toh, that’s why you called for the Black Jacket,” Jeetu asked, pressurizing the word ‘Black’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Obviously!” Kartik replied and then focused on driving safely.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>This wasn’t Kartik’s fault, no.</em> Aman thought. <em>I assumed.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Aman who calculated the number of times Kartik wore the jacket for them. Aman did the entire unrequired math here. Accepted that Aman was great at math in school, but does that mean he shall show his mathematically arithmetic geometry calculating skills for Kartik, that too, baseless? No. A big no, in capital bold letters. <strong>NO!</strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He closed his eyes and forced the mind to not think about the jacket and its uses. What the actual heck? Was he a school teacher? Why were his words sounding like them?</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Shut the fuck up, Aman.</em> He reminded himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They shall reach Devika’s in no time and 3 drinks down; he wouldn’t even recall any of this shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He should forget it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yes!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After recalling the first three dates where Kartik wore this same jacket, the bike screeched, indicating a halt. Aman opened his eyes to find himself in an open field. Some lights, a table with food- not much but enough to suffice two to three people and some bedsheets laid down on the ground.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik asked Aman to get off the bike, and he complied.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Obedient.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wow! Devika parties in open barren land. She is great.” Aman commented, the comment dipped in sarcasm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh-“Kartik found himself at a loss of words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Explanation Mr Singh,” Aman demanded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.” Kartik started. “Can you give me 5 minutes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Saying so, Kartik ran away without waiting for an answer. Not that Aman would deny, obviously not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman, to pass the time, started observing the surroundings closely.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He noticed the lights were of the same shady company of which Kartik and Aman had broken bulbs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After breaking in the store.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At 11 in the morning, when both of them were sober.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was not even part of any dare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The paper flags resembled the ones they bought on their first date. Aman had loved them and Kartik had wasted no time but a nice amount of money to buy Aman these.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh! The bedsheet. It was the one Aman had dirtied on their first ‘Drinks and Sholay’ night at Kartik’s then tiny apartment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The table had food which didn’t go with the other. Chai in a flask, Strawberry Milkshake, Fast food Veg Manchurian, Butter Naan, Rajma and Gajar ka Halwa.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Each of it having its significance. Each being special for some reason or the other. The chai, of course, the start of their relationship. The two men met when both of them wanted the last cup of chai kept on the table. Aman had reluctantly offered but the next time when they had chai on the tapri, Kartik had ordered only one cup. The story starter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The strawberry milkshake was the clumsiest and the most embarrassing one for Aman. The second date. Aman had really wanted to have a strawberry milkshake and the restaurant they had been to, was naturally out of it. But that had got into Aman’s head and Aman had been upset the entire time. Kartik literally called a friend of his and asked him to bring Strawberry Milkshake from any which in Delhi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Veg Manchurian could also be rightly counted in another clumsy encounter. The two men had to have a date at one of the fast-food stalls because Kartik was late and the restaurant with their reservation was shut down. They ordered Veg Manchurian and Veg Noodles. When Aman went to collect the order, he dropped the Veg Manchurian because, apparently, it was too hot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Butter Naan and Rajma was their favourite Devika-made dish. They would yearn to have it and Devika would fulfil their silly wish from time to time. She didn’t care about the time of their cravings. One call and it would be present with Devika’s huge smile. Aman had always considered Devika as her sister, much like Goggle back in Allahabad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And finally, the Gajar ka Halwa. Gajar ka Halwa was one of the many things Aman missed in Delhi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every winter there would be loads of it being cooked and the three siblings would quietly get into the kitchen to get a bowl for each of them at nights, only to get caught. He had wanted to eat it again but trusted only his mother’s recipe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On a call, Sunaina would explain every step thrice so that Aman would not mess up and yet, yet the Gajar ka Halwa was burnt. Aman was a great cook, but till today, he could not make Gajar ka Halwa.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman wondered how everything here was carved with memories. Everything until now had some semblance to Kartik and his relationship, their friendship or a childhood memory attached to it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Aman could think any further, he noticed another peculiar yet calming thing on the table. A gift, wrapped in the rainbow colours. He well knew what it meant and by now sure that it was all Kartik’s doings. He carefully opened the gift not caring what Kartik would react if he opened it before Kartik actually gifted him it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The gift wrap came off rather easily and Aman opened up the box. It had a pride flag in it. And, Aman felt proud of Kartik. The pride flag took him back to Allahabad, almost a year back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman knew the flag gave him all the strength and courage to stand for their love. It was for Kartik that they were here today. Aman felt a couple of tears fall but this time, he didn’t stop them or wipe them away. He stayed there for a few more seconds until he was sure he was fine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everything felt perfect. Except that the black jacket was not here and neither the man in the jacket. He called for Kartik. Shouted his name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman felt a pair of strong arms engulf him and he needed no signs or anything to know who this was. This was Kartik. His own personal dork. Aman had no will to move. He wouldn’t even mind staying this way for the rest of his life, and so he stayed. He stayed put in Kartik’s arms until he wished.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He slowly turned around to face Kartik, not letting the arms loose even for a millisecond. Aman moved forward and placed a respectful kiss on Kartik’s forehead. He looked into Kartik’s eyes and kept drooling over them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik parted his lips, wanting to say something but Aman quickly brought up his finger and gently placed them on the other man’s lips asking him to keep mum.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It felt blissful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The moment was magical.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Kartik could no longer stay quiet he started first.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aman,” he whispered. “Can I please, please speak now? I feel weird if I don’t talk for a long time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman chuckled at that. Why was Kartik even legal? Aman nodded his head in a yes, and Kartik started again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I knew you would open that box up, isiliye I didn’t keep your gift in that.” Kartik brought a relatively smaller box from his pocket pants and let Aman free.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as Kartik let go of Aman, he slid down to sit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On one knee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>ON ONE KNEE!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman was about to scream when Kartik quickly stood up and placed his lips on Aman’s to shush him. The lips moved in sync seconds later when Aman realized what had occurred. Aman brought his hands to cup Kartik’s face and placed them on his cheeks. Kartik’s hands involuntarily slid to Aman’s waist, as a reflex.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They stayed there, continuing their kiss until one of them was out of breath. The heavy breaths soon became light and Kartik broke the silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We cannot scream here. Technically, this is illegal. I need you to be as quiet as possible.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“ILLEGAL?” Aman practically screamed but this time, Kartik placed his palm to cover Aman’s mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can please be quiet, Sir?” Kartik repeated his instructions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Aman whispered once Kartik detached his palm from his mouth. “But then why are we here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This felt good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is good in doing illegal kaam, Kartik?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay! Let’s go back home. Forget why we were here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik held Aman’s hands and was ready to leave when Aman stopped him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, Sorry!” He whispered. “You continue.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik put the ring back in his pocket and got out of the jacket. He handed it over to Aman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I knew you would go crazy and make various assumptions when I tell you about the jacket.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik made Aman wear the jacket, which was way too huge for him. “Yeh humara Jacket hain, Aman.” Kartik started. “It will always be for us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman smiled at that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik took the box out and went on his knees again. Aman wanted to scream, but he promised he wouldn’t. Kartik slowly opened the box as if it was a Dharma Productions film, and it was time for the hero to take a grand slow-motion entry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman was growing impatient and Kartik loved that excited yet annoyed look on his face. Kartik opens the box, which was supposed to have a ring but was empty to Aman’s surprise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love the way you put your hands in the jacket’s pocket,” Kartik said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman didn’t get the hint at first but soon the brains returned and Aman put his hands in the pocket. He could feel a circular object in the pocket and without wasting time, he took the thing out, to reveal a-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A wedding ring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik took the ring in his own hands, went on one knee and spoke the words to make Aman fall in love all over again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have prepared a long speech, Aman. Dare you interrupt in between.” Aman chuckled at that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shut up Aman Tripathi. Listen.” Kartik started. “It has been years to our first meeting and our first chai together. It has been years to the strawberry milkshake incident, but this little and many such firsts are forever in my heart. They shall die when I do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman was about to speak but the glare Kartik gave him, he dared not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To love was all I could do for you, I had nothing. You make me a better person every day. You motivate me to keep fighting and it is you, who makes me feel wanted.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is you, to whom I want to return home for the rest of my life, you with whom I want to pet a dog, you with whom I want to raise kids and make them like you. It feels good to just have to beside me, right now and always. I only want to irritate you and it is only you for whom I am a dork.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik looked up to be able to look into Aman’ eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love those eyes, Aman.” Aman smiled. “I love that smile.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know we have had our own share of challenges, but we have battled them and come out stronger. I know we may not be perfect, but I’ll try to be your Mr Right. Aman, my knees hurt, but you still matter.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can take a bullet for you or take a knife and stab anyone for you. You complete me, Aman Tripathi. You make me smile. And that is the most amazing thing one could ever do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kartik straightened up and raised his hands closer to Aman, presenting him the ring-like one would present a king something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aman Tripathi, will you marry- Urgh, my knees- marry me? Will you let me be Kartik Singh Tripathi, once again? My f knees! Will you live with me forever?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman looked into Kartik’s eyes, with his own love-filled ones. He saw a mixture of emotions, expectation- for a yes. Happiness- because he knew the answer would be a yes. Questioning- for what if the answer was a no. Longing- for Aman to not waste another minute and hug him and Pain- because his knees hurt goddamnit!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman made Kartik stand up and brought his own hands forward. He looked at Kartik expectantly, waiting for him to make Aman wear the ring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is it yes?” Kartik asked in a low, almost inaudible voice.</p>
<p>“Of course dork, it is YES! Thousand times YES! You are mine and mine only. No one is allowed to take you away. We shall have dogs and kids and cats and all the animals. I am incomplete without you. I love you Kartik! I love you!” Aman screamed, but Kartik, this time, didn’t mind it a bit. He didn’t mind the world till the time Aman was with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We are getting married, Aman!” Kartik excitedly told Aman, while jumping. “We. Are. Getting. Married.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aman meticulously nodded and laughed his heart at Kartik’s antics. Kartik, on the other hand, pulled Aman towards himself and hugged him tightly. Aman looked like someone would just choke him to death in a minute. But who was Aman to mind?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kartik picked a stone and spoke to himself while Aman overheard. “You were hurting my knees, here, get lost somewhere.” Kartik randomly threw the piece of stone aimlessly and within a second, they heard a glass break. Aman saw the bulbs of the shady company break.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“History repeating itself?” Aman joked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“History repeating itself!” Kartik exclaimed and both of them broke into a laughter fit whilst being tightly wrapped in each other’s arms. For years to come.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Only Kaali Gobi allowed😗</p></blockquote></div></div>
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